His Only Foil Turned Asset
by NeverGonnaStop
Summary: Voldemort didn't duel him in the graveyard, he locked him away in a deep sleep. When Harry woke up years later to a world where magic and technology were married, he didn't know what to do with himself. The statute of secrecy was long gone and the wizarding war that started in his absence had expanded to a global conflict. He at least wasn't going to stand on the sidelines.
1. 1- His Only Foil

**Chapter 1:**

 **His Only Foil**

* * *

Harry watched helplessly as the last Death Eater prostrated himself at Voldemort's feet by way of kissing the hems of his robes. He racked his brain for a means of escape while Voldemort's attention was on his followers, but whether due to his exhaustion, injuries or sheer terror, no epiphany came to him.

And now the circle of black-robed and white-masked psychopaths was complete.

"I am sure you are all expecting some grand speech." Voldemort began. "Or at least some well deserved retribution for your abandoning me these last thirteen years, if the stench of your guilt were so obvious."

The circle of followers shuddered as if anticipating a session of cruciatus massages. Harry suspected that's exactly what they could expect.

"But fear not my friends. For I return to you not in rage, but in joy and triumph!" Voldemort went on raising his arms dramatically and letting loose a jet of green sparks like a firework. "I am reborn, stronger than ever before, and lo my forces are dwindled they shall swell soon enough."

His followers imitated their masters' celebratory act and lit the sky with an array of colorful sparks.

"There is so much that has happened. So much to share with you all." Voldemort went on when the cheers died down. "I don't even know where to begin. How I lost my powers that night? How I have returned to you all? Why I set my eyes to kill a worthless half-blood to begin with?"

Finally, the dreaded moment arrived. Voldemort turned his disgusting, monochromatic crimson eyes on Harry.

"Let us start with the last of those first. The first second and the second third." He said as he approached the bound champion.

He stood there as if contemplating him, and Harry gritted his teeth against the pain in his scar. Truth be told, he too was now enthralled by the maniacs speech. His horror at the death of Cedric, disgust at what transpired after and the desperate need to escape all took a back seat to his curiosity. His need for answers so long kept from him was winning the battle over his will.

"Either must die at the hand of the other." Voldemort said, his eyes still locked with Harry's own.

He broke the eye contact and turned back to his followers, who had resorted to glancing at one another in confusion at these words. An oddly patient smile plastered his face.

"This is but one clause of a prophecy made before our young friend here was even born. A prophecy that foretold of _one with the power to defeat the dark lord_." He said with glee.

The gathered Death Eaters laughed, and Harry supposed the joke was any claim that he was this person. Voldemort didn't seem to share in the joke.

"Do not laugh." He said as his patient smile faded and he slowly waved his wand threateningly over the crowd.

That shut them up.

"You need not know the prophecy in its entirety, but do not doubt me when I say that it does indeed describe young Harry Potter." He went on. "I went in that night half-cocked, ignorant of the latter two-thirds of the prophecy. And I paid the price for my foolishness."

Harry tuned out Voldemort's description of what happened that night. Of how his mother died to save him and the spell backfiring. He already knew this part and how he clung to life as a wraith and returned by means of the ritual just moments before.

The revelation of this prophecy was altogether like a bolt of lightning from the sky. Had anybody else known? Why hadn't they teld him? What was the full phrasing? He needed to know.

"And now here we are." Voldemort's theatrical speech went on. "And so I ask you all, should I kill this boy? My only foil?"

Harry felt the last of his hope leave him as Voldemort turned the ash wand on him. His followers cheered and egged him on, demanding Harry's blood. But death never came.

"I should?" Voldemort asked, doing a good job of raising two confused eyebrows despite having none.

No doubt sensing that they'd given the wrong answer, the Death Eaters whimpered and backed away.

" _Either must die at the hand of the other_." Voldemort repeated. "In other words, neither can die BUT at the hand of the other. Don't you see? No force on heaven or earth can kill me except him. The reverse is also true."

This revelation filled Harry with equal parts hope and despair. He knew where this was going, and despite the knowledge that his life would be spared, he suspected a worse fate awaited him.

"I tell you this. Were any of you to aim your wand at the boy and utter those two favorite words of mine it would come to naut." Voldemort went on. "Some miracle of fate intervening would save him time and again. It could be as mundane as you tripping as you cast it or Dumbledore's blasted bird appearing in a fountain of flame to spirit him away. And with each encounter he would grow stronger until we faced each other."

"But I ask you this!" He said loud enough to retrieve any waning attention from his audience. "Were I to kill him and fulfill the prophecy, would I remain immune to all other foes? I know that while he lives I am truly invulnerable, but once I kill him will any old Auror be able to get a lucky shot with a blasting curse and take my head off?"

Voldemort turned back to Harry. An almost loving gaze in his eyes. Harry wished he'd eaten earlier that day because he wanted to hurl, and Voldemort's face would have been in the splash zone if he were to do so now.

"The knowledge of the full content of the prophecy and another more _interesting_ revelation." Voldemort paused to examine Harry's scar with a deep fascination, like a beggar being handed an entire vault full of galleons. "Has brought me to an understanding."

He turned back to his followers.

"The boy who lived must continue to do so." He concluded. "He is my greatest achievement. My most precious weapon. One who must never be used, but instead protected."

His followers could only bow at the brilliance of this revelation. Harry could only gawk at the irony of it, and he suspected there was a second layer of irony he wasn't seeing.

"I haven't decided which of you I will assign this magnificent task to." Voldemort said as he walked among his followers. "Lucius."

One of the taller masked individuals stumbled forward and fell to his knees.

"Yes, my lord?" The familiar voice of Malfoy senior asked.

"You failed me in protecting the other one I entrusted to you. Would you like to make amends?"

Other one? This had happened before? Was there another child of prophecy decades earlier that Voldemort hadn't fallen too? What was going on? So many more questions plagued his mind as Lucius groveled and begged for the honor

"Well too bad. I'm giving the boy to Macnair." Voldemort said with a disgusting grin.

The other Death Eaters roared with laughter at the man's humiliation. All except the man Harry presumed to be the surly executioner himself who stood at attention, pride evident even behind his cloaked and masked visage.

"Walden. In the far East there is a hole in the ground, a tar pit with no bottom whose residents yearn for imprisonment in Azkaban. Do you know of it?"

The resolute man nodded at his masters' attention.

"Good. But before we get to work, let us have some fun."

Voldemort motioned to Wormtail who limped over, his stump of an arm under the opposite armpit. He handed his master a thick folder of what looked like paper scraps.

"How forgetful of me." Voldemort cooed as he took the folder. "Let me fix that for you."

Harry wondered what Voldemort would do to him as a form of entertainment as he blessed Wormtail with a new silver hand. He feared the imperious and cruciatus but what Voldemort held in his hand was far worse.

"The last year has provided me with a girth of information on our young friend, and so I took to making an album of the juiciest Daily Prophet articles." Voldemort paused, a look of absolute horror on his face. "Deer me! Have I become a Potter fangirl?"

The Death Eaters roared with laughter at what was likely a rare display of self-deprecating humor and the laughter never ended. Harry gritted his teeth to the point of cracking as Voldemort read every single Rita Skeeter article about him from the last year. It was Snape reading the Witch Weekly article on Hermione in that classroom all over again.

As Voldemort finished the final article he turned, not to Harry, but to the dead body of Cedric Diggory. With a wave of his wand the Triwizard cup flew to the dead boy's chest and he disappeared with a loud crack, along with any hope of escape for Harry.

"With all of these articles, that for some reason the wizarding public puts stock in, describing your deteriorating mental state in recent months I can only wonder." Voldemort began as he turned his attention back to Harry. "What will the public, your fellow students and your _dear_ friends think when Cedric's dead body returns without you?"

Harry tried to scream, but sometime during Voldemort's speech he had put a silencing spell on him. Memories of how the Hufflepuffs theorized his becoming a dark lord during the Chamber of Secrets fiasco told him exactly what the papers and public would think.

"Especially considering..." A familiar and hateful drawl echoed through the graveyard. "That your fellow champion was placed under the imperious curse and while under it used the cruciatus on your two competitors. One of them to the point of passing out."

A series of cracks echoed through the graveyard as more people appirated into the party. Harry didn't even bother getting his hopes up, and a good thing too because the sight of their new guests would have shattered that hope.

"Severus!" Voldemort greeted the slimy git with outstretched arms, though did not actually hug him. "My friends! Of all my followers our dear Severus here has been the most loyal and ingenious."

He said all of this while ignoring Harry's silenced screams and profanities directed at his former professor. He also ignored the Durmstrang headmaster beside the bat.

"It was he who brought to me all of this information I have shared with you tonight concerning the prophecy, and more still you shall never know." He explained to the other Death Eaters. "It is because of him that Harry's pitiful life will be spared today and forevermore, though I daresay our young friend won't be thanking him anytime soon."

Snape only tilted his head in lieu of a bow, all the while he avoided looking at Harry.

"Oh yes. I daresay news of Harry's turning will be all the more believable when that turn of events, and the death and disappearance of two professors that very same night, come to light.

Harry's mind had gone blank. He could no longer boggle at the tirade of questions flooding his mind and so he surrendered. He fell limp in the arms of that statue.

"And with that pleasant thought, I wish you happy dreams, Harry Potter." Voldemort said as he advanced on him. "Pray you never wake up, for the world will welcome you back not as a hero, but as my second coming. And by then they will be correct."

Everything went black immediately after as be fell into a deep slumber.

He did not have happy dreams.

* * *

 **15 Years Later**.

* * *

The squad descended the frozen spiral staircase into the depths of the infamous Mongolian prison, Kasyrgan

At their head was a retired warden of the prison being lead from behind by Monika Malfoy, their youngest member, who kept their prisoner deep under the imperius curse. The others, Norberta Weasley, Cedric Wood and Scorpius Malfoy formed a nice line between him and their guide.

"Little D!" A voice rang out from his intercom.

The others froze at the sound of his father's voice, which rang like a gong in the cramped space.

Dudley Jr barely managed to cut the long string of promised punishments his father was screaming over the airwaves without misfiring his gun. He glanced between the others as he righted his rifle and shrugged shyly.

"I think our parents know we're gone." He said sheepishly.

"And that we took their stuff." Said Wood, nodding to Dudley's rifle and the device on his own wrist.

Wood turned a dial on said device and a three-dimensional hologram of the prison appeared before them. A little red dot indicated their position and a gold one indicated their target. They had reached the very bottom level of the wizarding prison and beyond this door, according to the map, was a vast expanse like an endless auditorium. At its center was their goal.

"Let's go!" The bushy-haired girl leading them hissed as she made their prisoner open the door.

The sight that greeted them was every bit the nightmare that rumors told of. Row upon row of pits carved into the black stone stretched into the distance. Each one was a properly functioning tower of silence, and each was encircled on all sides by dozens of prisoners laid spread-eagle.

Thick, black tar bubbled as it rolled over them and into the pit, their agonized faces the only thing left untouched.

"Give me dementors any day." Said Norberta with a shudder. Dudley could only nod in agreement with the freckled dragon-rider.

They tightened their formation as they advanced further. It was to the point that they were practically stepping on each-other's feet and doing their best to ignore the stench of filth and burning flesh as they went. None of them dared glance at the prisoners, to the people kept in a state of perpetual near-death experience through the cursed magic of this place.

Dudley fiddled with a dial on the flashlight attachment for the M16. Finding the correctly charged rune he activated the inbuilt magic and bathed his companions in patronus light. It didn't do much for him but he could see the despair of his companions leave them. That alone made him feel marginally better, even if he himself couldn't bask in the same light.

They spotted their destination long before they reached it on account of it being the only distinctive feature in the room. Long, thick chains like those of an aircraft carrier's anchor rose from a single pit filled to the brim with the tar-like substance.

Following the chains with his eyes he saw they passed through rings embedded into the ceiling and connected to a series of leverless cranks on the ground.

Four chains. Four rings. Four cranks. Four wands.

"Alright Dudders, cover us." Scorpius ordered as he, his younger sister, Norberta and Cedric took a crank each.

Dudley canceled the patronus runes and activated a set on the scope attachment. He cycled through thermal, ultraviolet and aura scopes but saw no danger, beyond the horrors of how the prisoners auras looked.

He fought back bile as the quartet of _relashios_ made simultaneous impact.

He turned to see all four cranks raise whatever was at the other end of those chains. He kept an eye out for trouble and activated a seismic detection function on the butt of his rifle as he watched the - sarcophagus? - rise out of the liquid.

Sarcophagus was the best word he had for it. It was made of metal and shaped like an upside-down stepped pyramid, minus the steps. Long, thin blades formed every edge of it and connected the steel plates of its surface. He thought he spied runes on the surface of these plates, but they kept changing like a hologram, the cheap plastic kind not the awesome electronic kind Cedric had.

"No name." Wood observed as he pointed to the description plate dangling from the sarcophagus on a much thinner chain.

Dudley looked through the scope and magnified until he could read the inscription.

"Incarcerated on July 11th, 1995 on charges of murder and use of all three unforgiveables." He read out loud. "TRIAL PENDING!?"

The others shushed him at his incredulous cry as he read those last words.

"Let's see here. We're looking for a guy who vanished in late June 1995. Accused of murder and unforgiveable use and who never got a trial." The Malfoy sister said in her best approximation of sarcasm.

"Unless you count trial by public opinion." The other lady present countered.

The Malfoy princess glared at the redhead before continuing.

"And this person appeared here two weeks later, no name and under the same charges. I think we have our guy." She concluded.

"And if it's not him?" Dudley prodded between glances around the prison.

"Then we stun him, shove him back in and pray are parent don't drag us back here to join him." Wood answered.

Their conviction set, the four Wanded fired a series of spells that Dudley deduced were a combination of unlocking and finite charms. One of them clearly did the trick as moments later steam hissed out of every corners of the metal contraption.

He was nearly blinded when one of the sides opened upwards like a dolorean and bathed them in white light. It was only thanks to the sunglasses setting on his scope that he was able to look inside at the prisoner.

The man was naked and floating in some kind of misty fluid, reminiscent of pensieve memories. He was in the fetal position making it hard to discern his features beyond the shag of long black hair. Fortunately, whatever kind of field he was in - stasis maybe?- made him rotate and when he came to the right angle he saw it.

The scar. The stuff of legend, plain as day and exactly as everyone described it.

"We found him." Dudley Jr told his fellow Marauder Youth. "We've found Harry Potter!"


	2. 2 - The Strangest Dream

**Chapter 2:**

 **The Strangest Dream**

* * *

Harry was in the midst of a dream most strange.

It was still unpleasant, just like all his dreams, but at least this one was interesting. His surroundings were wretched and reeked of death and burning rubber, but his company was something to look at.

A younger Hermione with platinum blonde - though still bushy - hair lead a Buddhist monk at wand-point. He noted a significant amount of makeup on her too, which was very unlike his friend, but then again his friend would never have bleached her hair either so he didn't question his overly imaginative subconscious on this idiosyncrasy.

The only other person he recognized was Dudley, who had really taken to Aunt Petunia's diet. And apparently died his hair black. Honestly, he looked great, not that he would ever tell his pink-cheeked cousin as much. The rifle was a frightening addition. He remembered Vernon owning a pistol for the shooting range and a shotgun for home defense, but what Dudley carried looked significantly more suited to a war zone.

His other companions were rather cool. A redheaded girl with a litany of deep scars on her face and arms that looked to be from third degree burns and fencing accidents, yet who was still rather pretty. There was also a burly brunette who looked like he could handle a Quidditch goal post. The last one looked a bit like that Greengrass girl, the older one, but with wider shoulders, narrower hips and who may or may not have been a boy.

"Norberta, Cedric. Get him up. I'll robe him." The possibly sex-swapped Daphne ordered.

The red-haired crash-test dummy and prospective Keeper picked him up by his elbows. It was as they did so that he realized he was completely starkers. The blonde girly-boy waved his wand and remedied that, conjuring a dark robe around Harry's frame. It fit as snuggly as a full-body turtleneck sweater.

"Thank you." Harry managed to slur to the effeminate boy.

He nodded to Harry.

"Don't mention it. But we don't have time for pleasantries, introductions or explanations." He said.

"Yeah, let's go!" Bossed Hermione.

Norberta and Cedric practically dragged him along the igneous floor towards what he hoped was an exit. The holes in the ground to either side of them were not pleasant to look into and he very much wanted to get out of this place.

He managed to find his feet as the door came into view but still needed to be propped up by the pair that had pulled him out of that odd metal box, which he just now registered they had sunken into one of those the pits - or perhaps back into one? It was when they reached a thin metal door that Harry tried to make sense of things.

"What spell are you using on the bald gentleman there, Hermione?" He asked the small girl, sidestepping her makeover and plastic surgery binge.

His companions glanced at each other in confusion before they seemed to agree that the youngest member should answer.

"The imperius curse." She answered.

"That's what it looked like." Harry said with a nod. "And um, another question, why is the eleven year-old using the imperius curse on an old man?"

"Well we all tried casting it but hers was the only one to stick." The bulky boy, Cedric, said from his side.

"Ah." Harry conceded. "That makes sense."

It did not make sense. But he chalked up their complete disregard for committing one of the most atrocious felonies possible to the general weirdness of dreams.

"And I'm twelve, thank you very much!"

It wasn't until the adrenaline and muscle soreness from running up several flights of stairs sunk in that he had the first inclination that he might not be hallucinating all of this. It was as the familiar taste of blood in his lungs from exertion that he shed the last ebbs of dreariness and learned to walk on his own two feet again.

"We're still not running up against much resistance." The blonde girl who looked like Hermione said.

"Smack her!" Norberta ordered.

The in-shape Dudley complied, rapping her hard on the back of the head for jinxing their luck. Harry was already starting to like these guys, who he supposed were rescuing him and probably deserved to be liked regardless.

"Is your dad bringing the Diricrawler around for evac?" The skinny blonde boy asked Dudley.

His cousin glanced to their Cedric who pushed a button on his over-sized watch. The action elicited a light show from the device. He saw what looked like a three-dimensional topographical map depicting a mountain range with a large red and gold dot at the center. Moving fast towards the Gryffindor dot was an even larger blue and bronze one.

Harry was loving the Hogwarts color scheme.

"That's an affirmative." Cedric confirmed. "ETA, two minutes."

They went back to sprinting up flights of stairs, occasionally stopping for Dudley to peer behind doors or down pitch-black hallways with the scope of his rifle. The group worked as a well-oiled machine, even with the two dead weights they were dragging along or pushing ahead at wand-point.

At long last they reached a straighter staircase, as opposed to the slightly spiraling ones they'd been climbing for what felt like hours. Harry could outright taste the fresh air wafting in through the crack of light from the open doorway at the top. They hurried past two - hopefully unconscious - guards who wore armor similar in design to the box he'd been pulled out of and burst through the gaping archway to the wide open world.

The sight that greeted them took Harry's breath away.

Rolling hills stretched on to the end of the earth, coating in lush, green grass and pimpled with small rocky outcroppings separated by the occasional flat plains. He looked to the horizon where the ocean of green mixed with the ocean of blue above and, for just a moment, felt like he might float away into the abyss like his poor, poor aunt Marge.

This wasn't Scotland. Somehow he knew that, despite the similarities, this was some different land entirely. His first guess was American midwest, or maybe New Zealand? Either way it was heavenly and he wished he could spend the rest of his life there in solitude and peace.

Probably no chance of that.

"Thirty seconds." Cedric said from behind him.

Harry turned to look at him and noticed the single monolithic standing-stone in place of the archway they'd just exited. He already knew that trick from platform 9 and 3/4 though, and so he turned his sights to where his rescuers stared.

Something was definitely moving towards them. It was big. It was grey. It was damned ugly.

For a moment he wondered if Mr Weasley had enchanted a dumpster truck to fly and attached short stubby wings to the sides. For another moment he thought it might be one of those big ugly military helicopters with a snow plow latched onto the front. Whatever it was, it certainly looked like a dodo bird, which he still couldn't bring himself to call by their wizarding name. The name "Diricrawler" suited it nicely.

The porthole-studded dumpster truck landed mere feet away from them without kicking up a single blade of grass or errant speck of dust. It clearly didn't propel itself the same way as a helicopter, but what those blue, light-emitting spheres on the wings were, eluded Harry.

The butt of the Diricrawler, which now faced them, folded open like the plank of a space-ship, creating a nice platform for them to climb.

All Harry could think at the sight of the man at the mouth of the ship was that Uncle Vernon must have hit the steroids. And hit them hard. The Dursley patriarch's skin absolutely rippled with muscles, and though he couldn't see his chest behind the tactical - and likely bulletproof - vest he supposed that it and the rest of his body matched his arms and shoulders.

Harry didn't like the distinctly purple hue to his face at the moment.

He opened his mouth to scream at Dudley of all people but froze when his eyes landed on Harry, who knew what to expect when his uncle was in such a state. Instead of the normal outrage, however, the once-obese man did his trademarked fish impression, which would be amusing in any other situation.

He kept glancing, dumbstruck, between Harry and the other youth before seeming to come to a conclusion.

"Okay, you're all still grounded as all hell." He told them. "But good job."

It was upon hearing his voice that something finally clicked, and Harry understood. Crazy as it was, he understood.

"Dudley?" Harry all but whispered.

"Yeah?" The buff man and rifle-laden boy answered as one.

Harry glanced between Dudley and his, he gagged to think if the word, son in a good imitation of Dudley Senior's earlier fish impression.

"You've been asleep for a long time, Cousin." Dudley Senior said in what might have been a sad voice. "Everything will be explained soon enough. For now I'm going to have to ask all of you to GET YOUR ARSES INTO DODGE!"

Ah. That was more like it.

The other five minors jumped at the sudden outburst and filed in as quickly as their legs could carry them, which was much faster than Harry's aching knees could keep up with. Dudley Senior snatched the rifle out of Junior's hands and knocked the monk unconscious with the butt.

Harry found a seat between Cedric and Norberta and fumbled with the buckles as his cousin closed the hatch.

"We are clear for takeoff!" The imposing man yelled into a speaker on the wall.

The vessel lurched and did exactly that. Harry was impressed to see that the elder Dudley didn't so much as stumble as he walked to a work-bench in the corner. Harry took in the interior of the Diricrawler and aside from clearly being magically expanded it was indistinguishable from what an army dropship's interior should look like.

He watched in silence as his cousin took apart the assault rifle with practiced ease, reducing it to a pile of small parts in mere seconds. He grumbled to himself about burnt-out runes and magic residue as he tossed aside what looked like smoking granite lipstick tubes.

The entire scene was too bizarre for words.

Staring through the nearest porthole Harry watched the landscapes fly past them. The sight helped calm him down, so he did that for a few minutes. He was thankful that the other children, whose identities he was already making educated guesses at, remained silent throughout the trip. It was the kind of silence he knew well from guilty detentions with McGonagall.

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry eventually asked.

Dudley Senior sighed.

"I'm not sure if I'm the best person to be explaining everything to you, Harry." He confessed. "And I'm proof-positive that this isn't the right place for it. I promise you, we're going to the right place now and the right people are there waiting for us."

Harry turned to look at the man as he spoke but could only nod at the non-answer.

"What's up with the monk?" He broached, glancing to the unconscious figure on the floor.

"We have to wipe his memory and get him home." Hermione, scratch that, Hermione's DAUGHTER told him.

"Yeah." The other girl, obviously a Weasley, added. "Can't have Moldywart knowing we've rescued you."

That at least got a chuckle out of him. It was childish and silly, but he liked his enemies' new nickname.

A moment later a woman's voice rang over the speakers.

"We are out of detection range." The voice said.

Dudley Senior hit a button on the wall and leaned into one of the speakers.

"All right. Prepare for Portkey launch." He said.

He stood up and motioned for Harry to follow. It took him a few tries to unbuckle himself and get up from his seat, but he was soon following the man past a pair of shower stalls, bathrooms and sleeping quarters, each marked for the respective sex they were built for. There was also an impressively large mess hall and entertainment center filled with books and electronics along the way, making this ship by far the most impressive example of expansion magic Harry had ever seen.

Soon enough they reached the cockpit and Dudley motioned him inside where Harry met the pilot, likely the woman who called over the speaker.

She looked between Harry and Dudley, who shook his head and instructed her to take them home.

A series of complicated switches and knobs later and what looked like a ball of blue plasma shot out from some part of the ship. The ball exploded into a large disk of the same color and consistency directly ahead of them.

They did not slow down as they approached the disk, and Harry braced himself against a safety handle on the wall as they slammed into it.

The familiar sensation of traveling by Portkey enveloped him, but for once it was only a mild sensation. This was much more bearable. When they exited the tunnel through space they found themselves flying over a vast expanse of skyscrapers and industrial monoliths.

Each of the glistening towers boasted a checkerboard of televised billboards and holograms, made all the more difficult to read by the swarm of other flying vehicles in the air. Harry tried to spot one uglier than the Diricrawler but such a thing must not exist.

"Welcome, Harry. To Hong Kong" Dudley said in a manner way to similar to Hagrid's introduction of Diagon Alley years earlier.

* * *

The Diricrawler set down in one of the mountains overlooking the great Chinese city almost a half-hour later.

Their vessel lurched as it sank into a square, concrete landing. It was surrounded on all sides by foliage like that of a rainforest. Harry would never have known Hong Kong was so tropical. Or humid.

Just past a concrete path leading from a metal gate was a Victorian house, looking more suited to the Mexican desert than a modern cityscape. It was rather nice though, maybe twice as big as the Burrow. Blocking the path were six none-too-happy parents.

Harry had zero difficulty assigning each pair to the other teens, and figured the two blondes must be siblings based on the lack of a fourth couple to match them too. He wondered where or who Dudley's mother could be.

Dudley Sr motioned for Harry to wait inside as he death-marched the others down the ramp. Harry couldn't make out the words of the tongue lashing they received, but he caught the sentiment. Cedric, Norberta, Junior and the other two remained perfectly silent as they were told their punishment and Harry had to admit, they were made of tougher stuff than most to keep their composure through all of that.

At long last, Dudley Senior motioned for Harry to come down. He felt like a surprise birthday cake being wheeled out for display. The reaction his appearance got was to be expected.

He took their slack-jawed shock as an opportunity to look them over and he recognized four of them instantly.

Norberta's father was a much older Charlie Weasley, which he'd already guessed because "duh". His wife was a kindly looking woman with ear length brown hair and pearl earrings. He had never met her before.

Cedric's parents were none other than his old Quidditch captain and who stood next to the former Hufflepuff chaser, Heidi. Or was it Tamsin? He never could tell them apart.

Finally, his eyes landed on Hermione, and his heart went out to her as the waterworks started. He'd only had occasion to meet her parents in Diagon Alley once, and yet she looked exactly like her mother. It was frightening.

But who the hell was the man standing beside her?

He vaguely resembled Fleur's father. He had high cheek-bones, barely more than skin and bones with sunken cheeks like Sirius, but maybe a bit more healthy and lean. He dressed well and extravagantly in fine silk robes, but so did his wife.

"Who..." Harry wondered aloud and got his answer when the man smirked.

Harry knew that smirk.

"Rise and shine, Potter." Said Draco Malfoy.

That was a bit too much for him. Flying ships, time displacement and a bladerunner Hong Kong he could deal with, but the revelation of Hermione marrying Draco BLOODY Malfoy was pushing it too far.

He fainted.


	3. 3- Changes

**Chapter 3:**

 **Changes**

* * *

Harry obeyed Penelope's endless instructions as she examined every inch of his body for flaws.

He was unpleasantly surprised by how Muggle her techniques were. Stethoscope monitored breathing, heartbeats and reflex tests didn't take a backseat to her wandaided examinations but instead added to them. She even had an x-ray machine, like that of a dentist office, hanging from the ceiling, which she was currently using on his scalp now.

"What's the point of that? I'm pretty sure I have a concussion." Harry complained, not for the first time since waking up in her lounge.

Honestly, she was even worse than Pomfrey.

"This is the last thing before a blood and urine test. I'm just trying to ascertain your age."

Harry blinked at her.

"Well. I was born July thirty first, nineteen..."

"Oh! I know sweety. I meant your biological age." She explained by way of interruption. "We know you were kept under some kind of magical stasis. I'm going to examine how the plates of your skull have fused to estimate how much time dilation you've experienced."

Oh. Well that made sense. Harry knew he was taller than he remembered. And more muscular, which made no sense at all. He was dying to look in a full length bathroom mirror.

"Aaaand done!" She said cheerfully as a photo negative appeared on the monitor over her desk.

An impossibly thin and sleek monitor very unlike the one he remembered Dudley having for his computer. He'd have to ask about that.

She pressed a few buttons and a series of ruled lines appeared on the screen. She still used a quill to write out some calculations on a yellow notepad, the only indication she had ever stepped foot in Hogwarts.

"If I'm not mistaken, you've been aged by three years." Penelope concluded. "You'll be eighteen in a few weeks. I'll share the news with the others."

After subjecting him to a needle stick and directing him to her bathroom his new mediwitch handed him a bottle of anti-inflammatories and several supplements. Calcium and vitamin D he knew, glucosamine and chondroitin sulfate he did not.

"We won't know what they put in you until the lab work comes back." Penelope told him. "But I recognize the effects of many strength, agility and other developmental enhancements in you. And I'm pretty sure they implanted some kind of muscle memory into you while magically increasing your bone and muscle density."

Harry nodded, figuring it was best to at least pretend he understood her.

"That doesn't sound very medically advisable." He said offhandedly.

"It's not. Very few super-soldier treatments or dark magic enhancements are. If dark wizards bothered to actually consult medical professionals, one might actually have managed to conquer the world by now. In your case your joints haven't developed properly from lack of use and I pray we don't have to worry about organ atrophy. These supplements are for your joints. I'll ask Dudley to help me come up with an exercise routine when ..."

"Wait!" Harry stopped her.

She patiently nodded and motioned for him to ask his question.

"Moldywart was putting me through super-soldier enhancements?"

She nodded.

"Why would he do that?"

"Well. We don't even know the exact nature of these enhancements yet. And we have no way of knowing what magical rituals may have been performed on you while under his _loving_ care. Once we get the lab work back we can try to make an educated guess as to his reasoning and methods." She explained. "Until then I advise restraint in all things. Be extra gentle when handling objects, doing any kind of exercise or having physical contact with others like handshakes or hugs."

Harry nodded dumbly. He figured people smarter and more experienced than him would be able to figure out why Voldemort would give his enemy any kind of edge. Hell, it sounded as if the snake-faced bastard had done everything in his power, shy of training Harry personally, to make him a greater threat.

Maybe that was it? He was bored and wanted a challenge? If that whole prophecy nonsense was true then Harry would be the only person from whom the dark lord would find such a challenge. Or maybe he was stupid enough to believe that Harry would succeed him? Be his _'second coming_ ' as he predicted in that graveyard?

Questions for later.

"Speaking of hugs." Penelope said, interrupting his thoughts by squeezing him tighter than an anaconda. "Welcome back Harry! You can expect a lot more of these from everyone in the coming days."

Harry didn't reciprocate, out of fear of her warning to be gentle. He did still blush at the affection though.

"Thanks Penny. Oh. I forgot to tell you. I've learned to channel my inner Trelawny." He told her as he took her left hand, fiddling with the diamond ring and gold wedding band thereupon before wailing in his best loony divination teacher impression. "Youuuuuu marrrriiiiiieeed Peeeeeeeercyyyyyy!"

She tried to cover her mouth with the other had to stop the uncontrollable laughter that got out of her. She still snorted when she laughed. Somehow he forgot about that.

"That's incredible Harry!" She said, sounding every bit amazed as she was pretending to be. "You might have a lucrative future as a seer."

She dropped the sarcasm and swiped him playfully on the back of the head.

"Cedric and Norberta have agreed to show you around. They're waiting outside." She told him.

He didn't need telling twice.

"And don't forget the bottles!" She called after him as he bolted.

* * *

Cedric and Norberta made for great tour guides.

"Welcome to the Dragon Lodge!" Norberta hollered after dragging him to the front gate. "Malfoy home, Marauder base of operations in Hong Kong and one of the most infamously haunted places in the city."

Harry was already sweating in the summer heat and humidity. Better push this along.

"Haunted as in actual ghosts or haunted as in a lot of noise comes from it every full moon like the Shrieking Shack?" He asked as he started back down the winding concrete path to the mansion and past the Diricrawler's resting spot.

"Oh it's never been haunted at all." Cedric answered as he and Norberta hurried to keep up. "It used to have wards that made it look derelict to Muggles."

Oh yeah! Hogwarts had those too.

"So are most haunted places around the world really just warded wizarding properties?" Harry asked

"Well duh. Or just wizards living in the open using the 'Oh it was ghosts!' excuse for their magic." Roberta explained.

The land around the Dragon Lodge was massive. Surrounded on all sides by thick forestry that stretched for miles down the mountain. As such the main building was well hidden, as was the small Quidditch pitch that somebody had clearly modeled after the one from the Burrow. They lead him the long way around the ivy coated building to show him a greenhouse - which he couldn't see himself ever entering in this weather, even under threat of death and dismemberment - and down a set of stone steps to the back courtyard.

Gaps in the brick pattern served as small gardens for exotic flowers and as resting places for peacocks he had mistaken for exotic flowers at first glance. He could see the entire city and bay over the balcony of the courtyard.

He could get used to staring out at such a view during morning tea.

They found Hermione's son in the garage near the mouth of the courtyard. The remains of a candy-red convertible that looked like it was snatched right out of the 1950's lay strewn about in an order he couldn't make heads or tails of but he was sure made sense the blonde boy. He had the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up, which was good thinking by the look of the caked-on grease and rust covering his hands and arms.

"Mister Harry Potter!" The boy greeted as he tiptoed over his mess as fast as he could. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy. It's an honor to meet you, sir!"

The boy practically gushed as he shook his hand. Harry was so taken aback by the respectful form of address that he could only nod dumbly.

"My parents speak legends of you! It's like a dream to properly meet you in the flesh." He explained, still shaking Harry's hand.

Harry just kept nodding and resisted the temptation to clarify if he really meant both parents. The boy looked like he'd just crawled out of a shoulder deep pool, and Harry was worried he'd be just as drenched in his own sweat if he didn't get inside soon. Still, better to be polite.

"What are you working on here?" He asked Scorpius as he finally let go of his hand.

Scorpius glanced back at his mess and shuffled a bit in embarrassment.

"Oh what, this? It's a 1950 Jaguar XK120." He said. "I found it in complete ruin at a junk shop. Spent an entire years allowance and chore money to buy it. Just finished repairing and painting the body. Now I'm cleaning, repairing and enchanting the internal parts. It's great fun."

Harry believed him. Suddenly forgetting the grimy discomfort of being outside he pushed on the conversation.

"What kind of enchanting?"

"Nothing fancy. Just some lightening and friction reducing charms. The real hard part is trying to transfigure replacement parts for what's missing or too rusted through to repair." He explained before picking up a phone book sized manual detailing each and every part and mechanism of the vehicle. "I'd conjure them but I'm no good at it."

The book was solely devoted to that exact model of vehicle, and somehow that seemed more intimidating to Harry than a rematch with the horntail. Looks like both Malfoy heirs inherited his best friend's mind. The world may very well be doomed.

"Well we have to finish giving him the tour." Norberta said impatiently.

"Oh yeah, right. I'll see you at dinner, sir." Scorpius said, giving Harry another handshake before getting back to work.

Harry didn't find himself all too interested in the interior of the house beyond the sleeping quarters and bathrooms. Beyond that the rest of it, like the library, game room, admittedly impressive alchemical/electrical lab in the basement, and rooftop lounge would become hardwired into his memory with repeated use. He could honestly care less about the gymnasium.

Still. He played the part of attentive guest throughout each explanation.

"And this is the room us youngins will be sleeping in!" Norberta explained as she flung open a door.

Hermione's daughter jumped at the interruption to her reading time, but smiled politely at the sight of them before putting her book on one of the two beds.

"He's awake! You had us so worried Mister Potter, sir." She said with a bow, hands clasped in front of her.

Harry decided to let the 'mister's and 'sir's go unchallenged for now. He didn't have the energy to start correcting them.

"I met your brother, Scorpius, downstairs. I failed to ask him what your name was." Harry told her with a polite smile of his own.

The girl absolutely glowed with a blush and showed off her teeth again. He noted she didn't share her mother's oversized incisors.

"My name is Monika Malfoy." She introduced herself with a curtsy as she lifted the hem of her skirt ever so slightly. "I was named after my late grandmother. Did you know her?"

If only Lucius had instilled such fine manner's into his son, Harry could very well have wound up in Slytherin.

"I met her and your grandfather once in Diagon Alley." He told her. "I never had occasion to speak with them. I understand they were dentists?"

She nodded somberly. Harry grasped for a change of subject.

"You said all four of you sleep in here, but I only see two beds." He pointed out.

Monika reacted just as he expected and jumped at the opportunity to explain something.

"That's because this is the girl's side. Here, let me show you." She said as she hopped out of the room, closing the door as she did so.

"Clockwise." She said, turning the handle clockwise and opening the door to reveal the same room she just exited. "Girl's room."

She closed the door again.

"Counter-clockwise." She said, turning the knob counter-clockwise and opening the door to reveal a room completely coated with posters. One half was of formula 1 racers and classic cars, the other of Quidditch teams and racing brooms. "Boy's room. If you couldn't tell by the decorations."

He was pretty sure he could tell which side of the room belonged to which boy too, based on the very same decorations.

"That's wicked. Where do the Durslkey's sleep?"

"Diricrawler." Monika answered simply.

"Do you guys know where I'll be sleeping?" He asked as she closed the door again.

"Mhm." Monika said, pointing to another door down the hallway. "Mama spent the afternoon renovating that one for you. Has its own shower."

"Good. I'm in desperate need of one of those. See you guys at supper." He excused himself.

"She left your wand under the pillow." Monika called after him.

He turned back to look at her.

"Where'd she get my wand?"

"I gave it to her." She said.

"And where did YOU get my wand?"

"It was in that sarcophagus with you." Cedric said. "Little D grabbed it before letting you out. Just in case."

Damn, these kids were battlesmart. You'd think they were raised by Moody.

"That was some good thinking. Thanks." He said before closing the door.

Hermione had gone all out for him. For a split second he could almost make-believe he'd stepped foot into the Gryffindor dorm. A perfect replica of his four poster bed sat at the back wall with blood-red drapes to match the chair next to a small study desk.

There was also a set of cubbies on the wall next to the bathroom door. They were arranged seven by three. There was already a pair of slacks, freshly shined shoes, a dress shirt and tie in one on the middle rows. The labels told him that the bottom row was for day clothes, the middle was for dinner clothes and top was for night wear.

Purebloods and their etiquette. Oh well. Best to dress properly for dinner.

* * *

Cedric called him down to dinner from the door just as Harry finished the knot on his tie. He was feeling the three years without food catching up to him as he ran down to the dining room with the Quidditch fan. Cedric won, naturally.

They had failed to show him this room or the kitchen during their tour. A fireplace in a Hong Kong home was a clear sign that this place was built by wizards, for wizards.

Everyone else was already there.

Draco and Hermione sat at the head of the table with their children on either side of them. Charlie, his wife, Oliver, Heidi and Norberta took up the left side. Dudley, the raven haired pilot - who he now realized must be his wife - and Junior took up the right side with Penelope and a high-seat laden three-year-old girl near his end.

Cedric joined his parents on the left side leaving Harry to sit at the opposite head of the table to his former classmates and right between Penelope's daughter and Cedric Wood.

"Hold your neighbor's hand and bow your heads for grace." Draco commanded as he did exactly that with his wife and daughter.

Harry struggled to hold the giggling toddler's hand as Draco gave thanks for the gathering and Harry's safe return. With the food sufficiently blessed, Hermione waved a hand and the lids to each dish vanished at once as crystal glasses of wine appeared for the adults, including Harry, and glass cups of one juice or another appeared for the children.

"That's a lot of green." Harry pointed out.

Aside from a large fillet of what may have been swordfish at the center of the table, there was nothing but vegetable dishes. He spotted green bean casserole, broccoli pasta, breaded tomato slices, baked cucumber chips, several bowls of spinach pesto and a pot of cabbage soup.

Honestly, it all looked delectable. But he was hungry enough to eat a cow. And he wanted cow.

"Dad's a prescitarian." Scorpius told him as he poured himself some soup.

"The religion?" Harry asked confusedly.

"No you're thinking of presbyterians. Prescitarians are like vegetarians but they eat fish too." Monika told him.

Her father nodded to her with an approving smile.

"Pass your plate down, Potter. I'll load you up with some of Mione's fish and pasta to start you off." Draco instructed him.

Harry obliged and was soon stuffing his face with lemon-lime soaked swordfish. It was feathery in texture but spectacular. Since when was Hermione such an excellent cook? Maybe she started cooking all of her own food in objection to the school elves?

As with most meals the world over, the first few minutes were filled not with conversation, but the sound of everyone practically making love to the food. With his first serving finished Harry saw fit to correct that.

"So, um. When did the world go all blade runner?" He asked no one in particular.

Dudley Senior at least got the reference. If his snorting at it was any indication.

"You've seen blade runner?" He asked Harry incredulously.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"When I was twelve."

"How?"

"I borrowed it from the library and watched it on your old tv. The one with the built-in vhs player?"

Dudley seemed to have resorted to digging through his memories at Harry's last answer. He took the time to load his plate with the breaded tomato slices and dried cucumber chips. They were alright on their own. With a little pesto they became more addictive than butterbeer flavored hard candies.

"Didn't I break that?"

"I repaired it. Didn't have much else to do in Privet Drive other than fix all of your old broken junk."

He conceded the point with an impressed nod and ferried the question to Hermione. She finished chewing her food, placed her fork and knife on the plate at a deliberate angle, wiped her mouth, and answered him.

"The world has changed so much in your absence, Harry." She said.

She was rather stiff in her mannerisms, more snooty in facial expressions and stony in voice than the Hermione he remembered. It was reminding him of Narcissa at the world cup.

"We wanted to slowly immerse you into it all, so don't expect us to tell you everything at once." She finished the disclaimer. "But three major things happened that lead to the world - " she sighed " - _going all blade runner._ "

"First. The statute of secrecy was completely shattered and the magical world laid bare." She raised a finger as she said it. "Which is a story all its own. You'll hear it some other time. Second, after a period of adapting, we - as in witches and wizards in general - sold magic in all of its forms to the Muggle world and became filthy rich."

She stopped her explanation to take a small sip of her wine after this, then went back to eating as if the conversation was ended.

"What's the third thing?" He dared to ask.

"Then they sold it BACK to us!" Charlie answered with a gleeful slap to the table.

"Better than it ever was before." Oliver added, finishing his glass and magicing it full again.

"Everything we had, they made better." Hermione explained. "They capsulized our potions, perfected or debunked the mathematical proofs of our greatest theories, devised the most unbelievable uses for spells we never considered before."

Harry was expecting a whole lot of bad news and horror stories of war. He liked this much better. He absentmindedly started on the wine, only to discover that he liked wine a lot.

"And we kept selling to each-other and improving magic and technology. Dad owns the world's largest automobile conversion company." Charlie kept on. "It started off as enchanting the internal workings to be more lightweight and frictionless for improved mileage and flying cars for the more spendthrift. Then it snowballed into people building vehicles from scratch for flying."

"And as you might expect." Dudley Senior cut in. "A lot of people based their designs off of popular vehicles from science-fiction. One eccentric billionaire even built a fully scaled Enterprise from Star Trek just to piss everyone off."

Harry looked to his cousin in abject confusion.

"Why in the world would that piss anybody off?"

"Because he designed it to be an unholy Frankenstein's monster of other fictional ships." He explained. "It had a Millennium Falcon instead of the disk, connected to the Justice Leagues WatchTower, with the Pillar of Autumn and Ishimura in place of the propulsion things."

Harry didn't know what half of those were, but he got the general idea.

"I think I spotted the Bepop near the bay once." Junior added.

"Oh yeah, that belongs to old man Jenkin's." Draco said. "He's run cargo for me before. He also has another gorgeous replica called the Silvana. I looked it up and it's from one of those Japanese cartoons Little-D likes. I think you'd enjoy it Scorpius."

His son made a gesture as if to say 'Who? Me?' At his father's suggestion.

"Yeah. The show has a lot of smaller ships people fly on, van ships or something like that. They're right up your alley." His father told him.

Scorpius seemed to consider this and shrugged.

"I'll be sure to check that out." He said before adding some of the green bean casserole to his plate.

Harry realized he hadn't had any yet so passed his plate down.

"And how long did all of this take?" He asked between bites of the crunchy onions on top.

The adults all shared a nervous glanced.

"Oh come on! Just tell me how long I've been gone. I can take it."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Having been his best friend it made sense for her to feel like it was her responsibility to tell him. But still, she was acting like it was the end of the world.

"Fifteen years." She finally said, just above a whisper.

"Oh! That's it?"

The nervous glances they kept sharing were beginning to grate on his nerves.

"What do you mean, that's it?" Oliver asked tentatively, as if afraid for his mental health.

"Well fifteen is much less that I was expecting. I thought it would be closer to twenty five, especially considering all the youngins..." Harry trailed off.

He stared at Scorpius.

Scorpius stared back.

He glanced between Draco and Hermione.

They looked oddly guilty.

"Scorpius. How old are you?"

The blonde boy put his utensils down and swallowed nervously.

"Almost fourteen. Why?" The boy said, sounding more confused than defensive, but definitely defensive

Oh god.

"Fourteen. Hmm. And I've been gone fifteen years?" He clarified to a room of nodding heads. "When I disappeared I was fourteen years old myself. And if I'm not very much mistaken, your parents were both in my year at school."

He paused to give them a chance to explain. They didn't take it, but the children present all seemed to have grasped his meaning.

"By all means. Tell me if my math is off. I'd love to be wrong here."

"Harry. It was a very strange time." Hermione started.

Oh, that's rich.

"It was war." Draco corrected. "Of a strange variety to be sure, but war all the same. One that still rages and has grown to span the globe. And I was on the wrong side of it."

He took his wife's hand and squeezed it.

"Things got really bad, really fast. Hermione and I, enemies at the time, found ourselves trapped and injured in a bunker in Siberia after the battle of Durmstrang." He told them.

Harry found himself already more enthralled by the story than he was outraged by the outcome moments earlier.

"We had little food, no source of warmth and we were too exhausted from a terrifying battle to properly warm ourselves, or do any magic at all." Hermione took over. "Several hours of glaring at each other as we froze to death slowly turned into an evening sharing a single robe and blanket."

Draco nodded to his wife.

"When I later found out she was pregnant and trying to hide it I was having none of it." He said. "I rose hell and high water to shotgun wedding her. It started out as a sense of responsibility, I wouldn't let a child of mine grow up without a father, or mother for that matter. But as time went on... Well..."

Harry did his best impression of his former rival's insufferable smirk.

"She grew on you, didn't she?"

"Like a mold!" He scowled back at him.

Hermione grabbed him by the head with both hands and planted a firm kiss on his cheek. The matching smiles they wore when his best friend leaned her head on her husband's shoulder told him he had nothing to worry about.

"I became a much better man after that." He confessed. "I cut off my own arm for her. Rid myself of that accursed mark." He raised his left arm and Harry noticed a distinctly rubber sheen to it. Prosthetic? "And she sacrificed just as much for me. She learned my culture, my customs and adopted them fully. She's been a better wife to me than I could have ever hoped for."

That still didn't answer the biggest hurdle Harry had to overcome to believe any of this.

"And her heritage wasn't an issue?"

Draco gave him the oddest look. It wasn't a glare. It was more like a challenging glance.

"It was never about purity of blood, Harry. While it does matter, likelihood of having Squib children and all that, it was never the reason for the wizarding world's distrust of Muggle-borns." He explained. "I think I told you as such when we first met, though as a dumb eleven year-old I may not have been as eloquent as I am now. It's culture."

"Culture in the Keynesian, subjectivist, Alynskeyite hellscape that is the modern Muggle world is so destructive, so economically unstable and damaging to the heart and mind that us in the wizarding world wanted nothing to do with it." Draco explained further. "We've already suffered the introduction of some Prussian Model practices being introduced into our schools for one thing. But I tell you this. A woman who leaves all of that behind and embraces what it means to be a witch, is worth ten thousand times as much as a pureblood who attends a liberal arts university and brings that nonsense home to roost."

He looked to his son and daughter.

"Blood matters children." He told them. "But it's not all that matters. You better think long and hard on the consequences before giving your heart to somebody of Muggle birth or culture. But I have faith that if you ever do, I can be confident that it's the right choice."

Silence rang as his story ended. There were a lot of words in there Harry didn't know, but the passion behind them made up for it. Harry doubted if he'd ever agree with a word of it, but it all at least sounded reasonable. Respectable. Not knowing what to say to such a beautiful tale, he decided to finish his wine.

"That was soooooo romantic." Norberta moaned from where she sat, chin in both hands and eyes glazed over.

"It get's significantly less romantic when you realize that bunker was filled to the brim with booze and we spent three whole days drunk out of our minds and don't remember a wink of it." Hermione deadpanned.

Harry couldn't help it. He spat his wine clear across the table.

"Oh come on! I remember it perfectly. There was only one bottle of fire whisky about yay big." Draco countered, holding his hands apart to depict the size.

Hermione took his hands and separated them further.

"Okay it was a rather large bottle."

Hermione spread his hands further apart.

"It might have been magically expanded and filled with the contents of several bottles, now that I think about it."

She spread them further still.

"You know what, I lied. It wasn't a bottle. It was a barrel and we went through the whole thing."

She spread them even further.

"One of those big barrels they keep on their sides and drill taps into."

She spread them as far as they could go.

"Actually we weren't in a bunker at all. It was a whiskey refinery and we went swimming in those big metal fermentation vats."

He somehow managed to say all of this in complete deadpan, just like his wife, and the joke elicited all the more laughter from everyone at the table because of it. Scorpius, for his part, glowed red with embarrassment.

* * *

 **Author's notes**

 **Dragon Lodge** is a real place. Illsight did a video tour of the decimated mansion if you want to see it.

I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed thus far, even if it was just to give support and tell me how much they liked this story so far.

I've kept you waiting long enough. We're meeting Gabrielle next chapter.


	4. 4 - Grounded?

**Chapter 4:**

 **Grounded?**

* * *

Their trip to Deep Water Bay took two and a half hours on foot.

When Penelope broached the topic of designing an exercise routine for Harry with 'Big D' swimming came as a rather obvious conclusion.

"It's the middle of July, it's hot as a sauna outside and we are within walking distance of the ocean in every direction. Have the kids take him to the beach!"

Norberta tried to convince him to go to Waterfall Bay Park. She even went so far as to show him pictures of it on a thin device which looked like a flattened, if somewhat fancy, disposable camera. Most of the children had one and somebody had tricked them into believing they were phones. He wasn't impressed with the park and, despite the waterfall being closer, decided on deep water bay.

They started walking just after sunrise while it was still cool out and that made it much more bearable to be outside, but by the time they reached the soft sandy beach Harry's knees and ankles felt ready to shatter.

He spent the first few hours spread out, stretching on the soft sand and trying to restore his tan. Fifteen years locked away had made him rather pale, paler than he'd ever been since starting on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He'd never had to avail himself of so much sunscreen and skin protection charms, but Hermione was rather insistent.

He kept himself entertained by watching Monika and Norberta play with Penelope's daughter, Fabiana. The three-year-old, on the other hand, kept herself entertained by chasing the receding water and subsequently fleeing when it came back. She screamed with laughter all the while she stomped around on her stubby little legs.

She was incredibly cute. So was the bikini clad Norberta, but in a much different way.

He kept catching himself staring at the fourteen year old redhead. At first he was enthralled by how damn cool the scars along her body were, and to be fair the entire gang had been eyeing his impressive collection for most of the walk, but later he was drawn in by how appealing her general outline was. He stopped when he remembered he had aged while effectively comatose.

An eighteen year old man eyeing a fourteen year old probably didn't look all too respectable. And he doubted that a defense of " _But I still FEEL fourteen on the inside!_ " would hold up in court.

Penelope had assured him that he wasn't, in fact, mentally fourteen anymore. Something to do with brain chemistry and physiology. He had been rather distracted by the brain scan images she was trying to help him decipher at the time.

Cedric and Scorpius were supposed to be keeping an eye on him, which made him feel even more self-conscious about eyeing Charlie's daughter, but both seemed to be off in their own little world. Scorpius would no doubt prefer to be working on his car, but by condition of being grounded they all had to escort him to the beach.

Oh the humanity. Who could conceive of such a terrible punishment? Somebody really ought to call child protective services.

Dudley Junior lay beside him snoring loudly in the sun.

Whom, exactly, was babysitting whom?

"Hey Little D. I'm gonna go swimming." He told his first cousin once removed.

All he got was a snore in response.

"Good talk."

* * *

Dog-paddling out to sea did wonders for his pain.

The dark water was cooler than he expected, but still felt like a Jacuzzi compared to the black lake it so resembled. It also lacked the myriad of dangerous critters, thanks in part to the floating yellow and orange barrier further out and the net he supposed stretched beneath it to the ocean floor.

He swam all the way to it and confirmed exactly that before he took to resting against the floating plastic. The water became more shallow and clear just beyond the designated swimming area leading up to a small, rocky islet.

He flirted with the idea of jumping the barrier and swimming to it. His assigned guard certainly wouldn't notice, but he didn't want to risk being bitten by something like that venomous snail he saw on the animal channel once. Or were those in Australia?

Regardless, the ground over there looked to be made of pointy rocks, not the kind of place to walk barefoot. He much preferred to lean against the barrier and relax, occasionally kicking his feet out to churn the water.

It was as he did this that he noticed something. At first he thought it was the sun being reflect off the water's surface but he realized it was coming from deep below the surface. It was still in the designated swimming area, though.

Was somebody snorkeling with a headlamp? Actually that sounded really fun.

He withdrew his wand from the strap on his shin. He made sure to ask before leaving if he was allowed to use magic without fear of the trace, only to be informed that with no statute of secrecy there was no longer any restriction on underage magic anywhere in the world. And he was of age to boot.

Quickly casting the bubble head charm Harry kicked off of the barrier and dove towards the light.

It kept dimming and going out, giving credence to the idea that it was some snorkeler or scuba diver examining the bay floor, turning his head every which way. He was nearly upon it when the light vanished entirely.

When it reappeared the sight that greeted him stole his breath away. He'd be in serious trouble if it weren't for the bubble head charm.

At first he thought some spurned bride had tossed her wedding gown into the sea. A very beautiful, silk wedding gown with meters upon meters of billowing white ribbons framed with fiber optic lights. Every curl and string of translucent material glistened with a slight pinkish purple, mother of pearl he recalled, as did the halos around the points of light stuffing every inch of it likes stars.

It was a jellyfish, he realized with a shock. It must have been at least 20 feet long.

Regaining his senses Harry figured it didn't belong inside of the barrier. He knew better than to touch wild animals, magical or mundane, and yet even he felt an unbearable urge to run his hand along its length.

He tried to think of a spell that would harmlessly send it back to the other side of the berrier, but the best he could come up with was banishing it out of the water and over it, which he was almost certain would at least damage the stunning creature.

That's when he spotted another wild animal that took his breath away, though this one wasn't very pretty.

His scream echoed painfully inside of the bubble charm as he tried to swim away from the rows upon rows of shark teeth. He nearly turned the shark into ingredients for Hermione's seafood decorated dinners. He stopped himself when he noticed that it was wearing an orange life jacket that form fitted around its back fin and a large first aid kit around its stomach.

The great white made a very human head motion to indicate Harry should follow him. With understanding, and a huge sense of deja vu, slowly dawning on him Harry followed the lifeguard shark to shore, canceling the bubble head charm as he did so.

He waited for Vicktor to finish transforming back into the form of man before grabbing him with hands behind the knees and taking him to the ground. The Bulgarian champion half-yelled and half-laughed at the unexpected assault and returned it in kind.

Harry found himself in quite the pickle when Krum put him in a choke hold, but being skinny had it's advantages. With a little twisting of his body he managed to wrap both knees around the other man's neck and pry them apart.

Viktor humored him and tapped out on his thigh.

"You play too rough, Harry." He chastised as he rubbed his neck jokingly.

The man was such a good sport. The world really didn't deserve him.

"Well you earned it for scaring the crap out of me like that." Harry said, offering his former competitor a hand and lifting him up.

The two men embraced as soon as the were at eye level.

"Vere have you been, man!" He eventually asked. "Last I remember you vere handing my ass to me in the maze."

"Well that's hardly fair. You were under the imperius when it happened."

Krum sighed in exasperation, but his smirk gave his humor away.

"Still incapable of taking credit I see." He shook his head. "Harry you prevented me from torturing a fellow champion to madness, and then stopped him from killing me. I owe you much."

Harry tried not to let the gratitude go to his head, but it was definitely going to his head. He wanted to come up with a change of topic but Krum beat him to it.

"You vemember Gabby, yes?"

Gabby? Gabby. Gabby does not compute. Harry didn't know any Gabby. Who the heck is Gabby?

Gabby turned out to be the pearlesce jellyfish, who like Krum was also a person, but who unlike Krum was a petite woman.

Petite wasn't quite the word for the silver-haired waif who was still mid transformation. She made Draco, who Harry thought was unhealthily thin already, see like a body-builder. The orange one-piece she wore looked like a leotard. But that was more due to her resemblance to a teen gymnast or ballet dancer. Thinking back to when he met her mother, the older woman did give off a tiger mom vibe and he supposed the woman before him may very have been both of those things. He wondered how many instruments she knew?

"Gabrielle?" Harry asked more in disbelief of how the tiny Veela had grown into a marginally taller Veela, but grown all the same.

Said woman took to tying her ankle-length hair around itself into a knot when Harry called her name. She looked up from her war with the cascade of silver and squinted between Harry and Viktor. Recognition slowly dawned on her.

"Arry!" She cried out and, abandoning her earlier efforts, jogged up to him.

She planted a kiss on his cheek as the last of the glistening gelatinous ribbons retreated back into her body. Harry missed them. The mix of her animal and human forms made her look all the more ethereal.

"Why did no one tell me you 'ave returned?" She demanded as Harry rubbed his burning cheek.

He was still tongue-tied at how tiny she still was. She barely made it up to his chest.

"That is a good question. I 'vould like to know that as vell." Viktor pressed.

"Well I just got back and the Malfoys have been taking care of me." He explained, still rubbing his increasingly warm cheek. That kiss really did a number on him. "I figured they'd tell everybody who needed to know until they were ready for the big reveal."

"Well you would think zat zey could at least tell ze ozzer Marauders in ze city." Gabrielle huffed, folding her arms and frowning. Nice to know she shared her sister's tendency to grow heavier in accent when upset.

Harry couldn't argue with that, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Maybe they were waiting for my birthday to surprise me? Or they wanted to slowly introduce me to everyone." He tried to excuse his friend's behavior.

His speech was starting to slur and he felt himself beginning to sweat. Hong Kong weather sure was erratic. It was getting really hot, really fast.

"Oh it eez your birthday? When?"

"It's um..." Harry tried to say, but the burning on his cheek where Gabby kissed him was growing painful.

He slowly collapsed to the ground, barely catching himself with both hands. His two companions had very different reactions.

"Oh my goodness 'Arry! I am so sorry!" Gabrielle pleaded as she kneeled next to him and cradled his head.

He could get used to this.

Viktor on the other hand stood there laughing.

"Ve have ourselves another sting victim! How many is that Gabby? Three this month?" He teased the girl with the surprisingly soft lap.

It took him a moment to register what he said.

"St - sting?" He stuttered out.

"Mine." Gabrielle answered, stroking his hair and wiping his forehead. "I was still part jellyfish when I kissed you."

"Oh. Brilliant." He mumbled. "Am I going to - going to die?"

It sure felt like it.

"No. It just hurts like hell. It vill pass in thirty minutes or so." Krum consoled him. "Unless you are allergic."

By now Harry's breathing was coming out in high-pitched gasps and he could feel his chest getting tighter. Was his tongue always so big?

"And ov course you are allergic." Krum concluded.

* * *

Harry was fine twenty minutes later thanks to Krum administering an epipen, which he carried by the dozen in his first aid pouch, while Gabrielle wiped his cheek with what smelled like vinegar. It helped with the burning sensation.

By now Norberta, Scorpius, Cedric, Little D and Monika had come over to join them. Their fussing, as with most fussing, turned out to be a bigger problem than the problem itself.

"So um. Gabrielle." Harry said when they finally calmed down and he could sit up on his own. "You're an animagus?"

"Oui. I would be a very poor Marauder were I not." She said matter-of-factly.

There was that word again.

"Hey everyone keeps mentioning it, but what do you all mean by Marauder?" He asked. "Assuming you're allowed to tell me. It's just the word holds special meaning to me."

They waved away his concern about secrecy and Viktor took up an explanation.

"Ve are a kind of private vizarding militia. A rival to and offshoot of the Order of the Phoenix." He explained. Now if only he'd tell Harry what this Phoenix Order was. "Most free governments recognise us and allow us to operate vithin their territory, or even employ us."

Harry nodded as he thought of the best questions to ask.

"And what exactly do you guys do? Aside from life guard duty I mean."

Viktor laughed off the deprecating joke and went on.

"Ve are not lifeguards. Vell, ve are lifeguards but ve are lifeguards second. Us aquatic animagi function more like..." He paused as if trying to remember the English word for it.

"Ze coast guard?" Gabriele suggested helpfully.

"Yes! Exactly." Viktor affirmed by snapping his fingers. "Ve protect the border of free nations by putting up, checking on and repairing vards. Performing reconnaissance. Identifying Death Eaters or their threats and eliminate or contain magical beasts who run amok. And plenty of other things ve usually get paid for. Vith that money ve fund our own unofficial operations."

It all came off like a well-rehearsed speech. It probably was, except for that last part which the members would be ill-advised to share with non members.

"And you're all animagi?" Harry clarified.

"Oui! Or have ze ability to transform in general." Gabrielle confirmed. "I was let in for being a Veela and later also an animal. Most werewolves and Veela are with us."

Harry turned to the Marauder youth

"And are you all animagi too?"

"Yup!" Norberta chirped. "I'm a red panda."

"Thorny devil." Scorpius added.

"Badger." Cedric said without a hint of irony.

"Platypus." Monika explained. "Sadly females don't have stingers."

Fascinating.

"Sea lion." Dudley Junior finished.

Harry stared at him with his best questioning gaze.

"You're a wizard, Dud?"

Now it was his turn to give Harry that same look.

"Noooo?" He hesitantly answered.

"Then how can you be an animagus?"

Monika cut it.

"Muggles can be animagi too, Sir." She explained. Again with the sir. "They just lack the ability to reach their natural form by their own power. But with enchanted apparel they can transform back and forth safely and efficiently. Most of us wizards use them too until we learn to do it on our own."

As if to prove her point she held up a bracelet that looked a lot like the metal links of a steel watch on her left wrist. Dudley Junior had one too.

"It's a Marauder trade secret though." Said Little D.

"That's pretty wicked!" Harry had to confess.

He turned on Gabrielle.

"And I already learned the hard way what you are. You kill many people by frenching them, Frenchie?"

How does she manage to show all of her teeth at once when she smiles like that?

"Oui. I am..." She paused to perform a perfect superman pose, knuckles on her hips and feet spread apart. "Ze poison!"

Harry got the impression she was trying to make a play on the phrase _"You're the bomb"_ and he supposed it worked well enough.

"Jellyfish are venomous not poisonous." Monika pointed out.

Gabrielle fixed the small blonde with her most scathing glare. It wasn't intimidating in the slightest.

"No! I am poison!" She all but hissed.

* * *

Viktor treated the entire group to an ice cream parlor a little while after that. The unlikely duo's patrol had just ended and they had the rest of the day free. They decided to spend it with Harry's entourage just as soon as they showered and changed.

Harry was a little disappointed to see Gabrielle wore the same airy white dress and sandals that most of the women of Hong Kong wore. She still looked amazing, but he somehow expected the French witch to have more interesting fashion than whatever was trending. Since when did he start caring about such things? Maybe when her older sister set such a high precedent?

He should probably stop comparing the two in his head.

The group passed the day talking. Just talking.

They avoided discussing any possibly painful topics after he explained his extended nap and the effects its had on him, minus the super-soldier treatments. They stuck to Quidditch and sports for the most part.

Viktor no longer played. Partly because he was past his prime as a thirty-four year-old, but mostly because it just got so much more competitive since Muggle athletes entered the sport. Wizards on brooms played against and beside Muggles astride hover boards, bikes or boots.

His aged friend even showed him a picture of some of these devices on his "phone" and Harry couldn't wait to try and play a game with them as opposed to a broom.

What was more interesting was how the rules of Quidditch had changed.

Most of these changes amount to better safety practices, and actually most changes to magical practices in general amounted to better safety practices. As far as Quidditch was concerned the game was now usually played over bodies of water, brooms and other flying equipment required straps like those on surf-boards and bludgeor here were, sadly, slightly less deadly. These and body armour requirements all made complete sense, the changes to the rules was far interesting.

For one the number of players almost doubled. Each team now had six chasers and four beaters, but still only one keeper and seeker. The number of balls too had doubled. Though there was still only one quaffle, there were now four bludgeors and three snitches. Two silver, one gold. Silver ones are worth fifty each, gold is worth seventy-five. The game ends when all three snitches are caught.

Harry liked these changes. It gave him more to do in a game. Of course it might be better to wait until he's played a game with these new rules before making a judgement on the matter.

There were still leagues who played by the classic rules, but they weren't as popular with spectators. As such, they didn't make as much money through televised events. It was sad, but understandable.

They ate a quick lunch Hermione packed for them - tuna sandwiches with diced onions, bell pepper and cilantro - before beginning the long trip back to the Dragon Lodge. It was made all the longer thanks to Harry's need to take constant rest breaks.

Despite every precaution, Harry was sunburned all the way down to his ankles and everything hurt, and the hurt wasn't only skin deep. It had been a wonderful day and it was well worth being unable to walk at all for several days.

It was night by the time they passed the Peak Lookout - a small restaurant with a lovely outside area that was currently filled to the brim - and onto Harlech Rd.

"So Gabrielle?" Harry asked during one trip between benches as their younger companions walked further ahead.

"Hm?" She chirped.

"Last time I saw you, you were eight right?"

"Oui."

"That just blows my mind." He confessed. "You don't look anywhere close to twenty-three."

That smile. Just... Wow.

"Oui. I zink we 'ave both aged razzer gracefully, 'ave we not?"

That was a terrible joke. So why was he laughing? Oh right. Veela charm.

"Are you the only person I knew who isn't married with kids?" He asked both her and their silent guardian.

"Zere are plenty of fish in the sea, but it eez hard to find one when your bruzzer is a shark." Gabrielle said cryptically. "E scares zem all away."

Harry glanced to Krum.

"Brother?"

"I married Fleur Delacour." He said. "Ve have been unable to conceive."

On the list of unexpected couples that ranked pretty high. But he'd seen a stranger one already

"How'd that happen?"

"Guilt."

Gabrielle tsk'd at his horrible answer and rewarded him with a punch to the arm.

"I felt terrible after the tournament and helped her back to health." He explained grudgingly. "It took a few veeks, but she recovered from the effect of my cruciatus. She did not forgive me for years. It took many battles fighting together."

This was a much heavier story than Hermione's. He was starting to feel sorry for asking. It sounded more painful than romantic.

"She vas magnificent in battle. I eventually recognized her as..." What he recognized her as would remain a mystery as Dudley saw fit to interrupt.

"ZERO!"

Viktor and Gabrielle both dropped into a crouch. Noticing that everyone else was too, he mirrored the action. Dudley was at the head of the group and motioned for them to hide in the brush. From his hiding place moments later he heard the reason for the alarm before he saw it.

It was a loud, rapid sniffing sound. A very familiar one. He looked to Gabrielle and silently mouthed his question.

"Niffler?"

She made a ' _Eh. Kind of_ " Hand motion before making a shushing movement.

What stepped onto the road wasn't remotely like a Niffler. It looked more like a bear. A bear with an entire warehouse worth of electronics jutting from its back. From it's neck down to the base of its spine were all manner of televisions, speakers, power lines, transformers, generators and many more things that a wizard of 1995 transported to the year 20010 wouldn't recognize.

It certainly sounded like a Niffler, or what he imagined a giant Niffler would sound like. And closer inspection of its mouth - when the flickering light of the sputtering electronics on its body allowed him to get a good look at it - showed that while its lower jaw was the canine lined mechanism of death he expected, the top was the same thin duck-like beak he recognized as belonging to the magical thieving species.

They remained completely still and silent as they allowed it to trot past, waving its head from side to side as it searched for precious metals.

When it passed and they could not longer hear it they finished their journey to the Dragon Lodge in silence, save for Dudley who made a quick phone call. When Hagrid's voice came over the line Harry became a believer.

* * *

 **Reviews:**

 **RebeccaRoy** \- wrote

Wow, now this is cool, and it looks like magic ended up being used in all the right ways. Harry has a bit of catching up to do but knowing him, he will.

 **Response:**

Oh it's been used in the wrong way plenty. They just weren't going to introduce him to the new world with tales of magic based superweapons, genetically modified beasts and the like.

And yes he does. And of course he will.

Thanks for the review. I hope you stick around


	5. On Hiatus

**Be advised.**

This story is on hiatus until such time as I finish my other stories, The Marauding Champions, Blood-Soaked Succession, and Recusant Successors.

I don't have anywhere near enough time to update each of my stories consistantly like I was planning to, so I will focus on three at a time.

I'm sorry to those who really enjoyed this fix, but I will come back to it, in time.


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